Pieces

by Shawn Lane

  Patrick sighed. He didn’t want to answer his friend. Really. “At the bar.”

  “What?”

  “I just had too much to drink.” As if that wasn’t the mother of all understatements. “I definitely couldn’t have driven. Anyway, can you cover for me? I don’t think I had anything too urgent going on today.”

  “Damn, last night was it, wasn’t it?” He heard Steve tapping on his desk.

  “Yeah.” His arm closed over the pillow that had belonged to Andrew. He pulled it to him and hugged it. It still lay on the bed they’d shared. He hadn’t been able to part with it. Not that it still smelled of his lover. He’d washed the pillowcase with the rest of the sheets time and time again. But still…pathetic, Patrick knew.

  “I forgot. I was going to go with you to keep an eye on you.”

  He wished he could forget. “I didn’t want company. Can you cover for me?”

  Steve sighed. “Yes. You want to have dinner later or something?”

  “Call me later and check. There’s someone I really need to talk to if I can.”

  “Okay, call you later.”

  Patrick returned the phone to the bedside table. He swung his legs out of the bed, got up, and went into the bathroom to pee. When he finished his business he made the mistake of checking his reflection in the mirror.

  “Fuck, you look like shit,” he told himself. From his tangled, sandy blond hair, scruffy growth on his chin, and dark smudges under his eyes, he shouldn’t be too surprised Josh had run out on him. Again.

  He turned away in disgust and twisted the knob in his glass enshrouded shower. He ran over the time he’d just spent with Josh, trying to remember the fuzzy details.

  Josh drove him home, helped him inside, they’d kissed, made it to his bedroom and then…what? They’d both undressed. After that, Patrick couldn’t remember.

  Probably passed out. That had to be why he didn’t remember what happened. He knew Josh would never have taken advantage of him if he were unconscious so, other than what he could remember, nothing else had happened.

  Patrick sighed heavily and stepped into the shower. He quickly washed, got out, and shaved without managing to cut his own throat. By accident or otherwise.

  Back in his bedroom, he picked up the picture he kept on his dresser of himself, Andrew, Josh, and Eddie. It had been taken four years ago at a Halloween party at the bar. Josh and Eddie had dressed up like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Patrick smiled. They looked very cute in their getups.

  Patrick had dressed like a shark, which they’d all suggested because of his profession. And Andrew had dressed as an angel with big feathered wings and all. Patrick had chosen the costume because of Andrew’s profession, too, as a nurse.

  He’d looked at the picture so many times over the last three years he probably really was pathetic. He opened the top drawer of his dresser and shoved the framed picture inside. All the wishes and dreams in the world wouldn’t bring back those days. Wouldn’t bring back Andrew.

  And sure as shit wouldn’t make his raging headache disappear either.

  “Fuck,” Patrick mumbled and headed back into the bathroom for some aspirin.

  * * * *

  The cab dropped him off at EJ’s Bar a few hours later. His head didn’t feel much better and his stomach was a bit queasy, but he needed his car. He also needed to talk to Josh. He’d taken a chance Josh would already be here since the bar didn’t open for another couple of hours. But sure enough the beat-up old truck was parked in the lot.

  He walked up to the door of the bar and banged on it, wincing as the pain in his head sharpened.

  “We’re closed,” Josh’s muffled voice called.

  “It’s Patrick.”

  The door opened a minute or so later. Josh peered out at him, then past him at his car. “Come to get your vehicle?”

  “Yeah, and we need to talk. Can I come inside?”

  Josh hesitated. It nearly looked as though he would close the door in Patrick’s face. But after a moment, he stepped back and allowed Patrick to step inside the bar. He closed the door and twisted the lock back in place.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been run over.” Patrick walked to the bar counter and sat down at the first stool. “How much did I have last night?”

  Josh busied himself wiping the bar counter with a big white towel. His hair looked tousled, like he’d just gotten out of bed, although he’d tucked the silky strands behind his ears. He wore a gray tank top and jeans and Patrick couldn’t help admire his muscular arms. The man had always had a killer body even in high school.

  “Five or six.” Josh shrugged.

  Patrick also couldn’t help noticing Josh avoided his gaze. “About last night…”

  “Forget it. Don’t give it a second thought.” Josh turned his back and started fussing with the bar stock.

  So he thought he would just dismiss Patrick, did he?

  “First, I want to thank you for getting me home in one piece.”

  “What are friends for?”

  Patrick leaned his chin on his hand and watched Josh actually walk away from him and around the bar to mess with the tables and chairs. He tamped down his irritation with some effort.

  “I’m sorry I conked out,” Patrick said to Josh’s constantly moving figure.

  “Like I said, forget it.”

  “I don’t want to forget it.” Patrick noticed the pounding in his head got worse the more Josh irritated him. “I want to make it up to you. Maybe we can have dinner one night or something. My treat.”

  “I have a bar to run.”

  Damn, the bastard still refused to turn around and face him. Patrick held his tongue with some effort, but he wanted to scream, Look at me!

  “There must be some night Eddie can handle the bar without you.”

  Josh sighed, threw the rag down on the table he was wiping, and turned, finally, to face Patrick. “That would be a mistake, Patrick. Let’s not go there.”

  “What? Go where?”

  “Last night you called me Andrew.”

  Patrick frowned and shook his head. Shock coursed through him. He wouldn’t have done that. “No way.”

  “Yeah, you did. I’m not Andrew and I don’t want to be Andrew. I’m nobody’s substitute lover, Patrick.”

  “I did not call you Andrew,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t.”

  Josh’s chiseled jaw tightened. “So I’m a liar?”

  “No, but mistaken.” How out of it was he to have called Josh of all people Andrew? Hell, how many times in the beginning of his relationship with Andrew had it been the other way?

  “Whatever, Patrick. It’s not going to happen. Last night I got carried away, but it won’t happen again. The way to ensure that is to make sure we keep things friendly between us, but not personal.”

  Something that might have been his heart sunk into his stomach and formed a burning pit. For a moment, he could only stare at Josh. “You’re ditching me as a friend?”

  Josh grimaced. “No. I just think if we’re going to do any friend things it should be with others around and not just the two of us. You’re vulnerable and I obviously can’t keep my hands to myself.”

  “This is just your usual bullshit. Even if I did call you Andrew by mistake I was drunk and out of it because of the day. It doesn’t make me some weakling.”

  “I didn’t say you were weak. Don’t put words in my mouth that aren’t there, Patrick.”

  “You think so though. You always have. I know you aren’t him and I have never thought of you as him. I’m not trying to replace Andrew with anyone. He was irreplaceable.”

  “Yeah,” Josh said softly. “He was.”

  “Good, I’m glad we agree on something.” Patrick stood. His head hurt so much he thought his brain might explode. He needed to get home and lie down. “Look, it’s just dinner for God’s sake between two old friends. And unless you intend to take me on the table in the restaurant I’m pretty fucking sure y
ou can keep your hands to yourself.”

  Josh gaped at him and then laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that is true.”

  Patrick smiled, feeling a sense of relief. “So you will then?”

  “Yes, all right. How about Wednesday? We can meet at Bristol’s at seven.”

  He nodded. “Okay, that sounds perfect. Now I really need to go home and go to bed.”

  Josh studied him. “You look like crap.”

  “I’ve seen better days.” And worse ones, too.

  Josh went to the door of the bar, taking out his keys. “Here, I’ll let you out.”

  Patrick walked to the door and stood beside him. He had this almost overpowering urge to kiss Josh until all doubts, all thoughts flew out of the man’s head. His lips tingled anticipating just such a kiss.

  But the door opened, letting in the blinding sun from outside and the moment, not the urge, passed.

  “I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said instead, stepping outside.

  “Take care of yourself, Patrick.” And Josh closed the door in his face.

  Chapter 3

  The bastard wouldn’t dare stand me up.

  Patrick checked his watch for the fourth time since he’d been seated at a corner booth at Bristol’s Steak and Seafood Restaurant. Fifteen past the hour.

  Son of a bitch.

  The waitress stopped by his table with a sympathetic smile. “Did you still want to wait for the other person?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want to order a drink?”

  Memories of his hangover were still too fresh. “Iced tea, please. Thank you.”

  As she moved away, he pulled out his cell phone. No messages from Josh telling him to fly a kite. He sighed and laid the phone on the table.

  He hadn’t been to Bristol’s in a while, but it looked just like it had when Josh and Eddie had taken him there for his birthday not too long after Andrew took his own life. He’d avoided the place ever since even though at one time it had been his favorite restaurant for celebrations.

  Patrick thought he could learn to love it again. Well, if Josh actually showed up.

  From his position in the booth he could see the entryway of the restaurant. He watched, waited. Maybe even prayed.

  The waitress came by and set the iced tea in front of him. She walked away again and left him alone with his menu.

  His mind wandered, as it did all too often still, to the day he’d found Andrew. He hated when he thought about it, but sometimes Patrick had trouble turning off the memories. Places he’d been to with Andrew especially sparked them, but unless he wanted to avoid every location he’d known nearly all his life he had to get used to going to them again.

  Just a couple of weeks before Andrew had killed himself, they’d been at Bristol’s to celebrate Patrick passing the California Bar Exam. He treasured the memory as it had been really the last really good time he’d had with Andrew.

  Josh suddenly appeared in the entryway of the restaurant. Patrick exhaled. He gripped the edge of the table, and forced himself to be calm. Josh had shown up after all.

  Josh noticed him sitting at the booth and headed in his direction. He swung his tall frame into the seat across and offered a tentative smile. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Patrick smiled. “I had begun to believe you stood me up.”

  “Traffic was a bitch.”

  The waitress came by and Josh ordered an iced tea before raising his menu. “I didn’t really think about it when I suggested this place. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I can’t avoid all our hangouts any longer. I don’t avoid your bar.”

  “Okay,” Josh said. “Look, like I said, I know you’re still having a rough time with Andrew’s death. I think you should see a psychiatrist.”

  Patrick didn’t respond for several moments. It hurt like hell to think what Josh thought of him. “I’m not crazy.”

  Josh sighed. “I don’t think that.”

  “I saw a counselor after his suicide,” Patrick said softly. “I don’t need nor want to see anyone else.”

  “But, the other night—”

  Patrick slammed his fist down on the table. “Forget the other night. God, I used his name. So fucking what. People call their kids the wrong names every day and no one calls them crazy.”

  “It’s not the same and I don’t think you are crazy. Damn, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  The waitress arrived with Josh’s tea. “Ready to order?”

  Patrick cleared his throat and smiled. “I’ll have the halibut, baked potato, and salad with bleu cheese.”

  “The New York, please, medium. Vegetables, and the clam chowder. Thank you.”

  When the waitress moved away from their table, Patrick said, “Please, don’t you think if I needed to see someone I would? It’s been three years, Josh. You said yourself I should be over it.”

  Josh sighed. “But you aren’t. And I don’t think you’re just going to get over it. Ever. Andrew was a big part of all our lives. Yours especially.”

  “True. I’m not going to forget Andrew or ever stop loving him. But don’t I deserve to try and find someone else?”

  “Yes.”

  God, I really am stupid.

  Patrick picked up his iced tea just to give himself something to do. He finally got it. He was slow, practically had to be hit over the head, but he got it now. “Okay.”

  Josh looked at him. “Okay what?”

  “I got your message.”

  “What message?”

  “You aren’t interested in me.” Patrick shrugged. “You agree I should move on from Andrew, just not with you.”

  Josh looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t bother to deny it. He picked up his napkin from his lap and readjusted it.

  Pushing aside his sadness, Patrick said, “It’s fine, Josh. Don’t worry about it. I’m not expecting you to be my salvation or anything.”

  “The other night—”

  “I’m really sick of talking about the other night. I got drunk and I attacked you. Fortunately for you, I passed out before I took advantage of you.” Patrick rolled his eyes.

  “More like you passed out before I took advantage of you.”

  “Whatever. Nothing happened except a few kisses and bare skin touching. You can pretend I was one of your anonymous one-night stands again.”

  “Patrick.” Josh’s jaw tightened.

  The waitress came by with his salad and Josh’s soup. “Any ground pepper?”

  Both of them shook their heads and they were once more left alone.

  “Can I ask you a question, Josh?”

  Josh nodded and ate a bite of soup.

  “Have you ever been in love? Has there ever been anyone you’ve wanted a serious relationship with?” When Josh frowned in irritation, Patrick shook his head. “I’m genuinely curious. I’m not trying to judge you. I just really want to know.”

  The other man shrugged. “Not really, no.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Patrick forced a smile. “Well, now that all that unpleasantness is out of the way, how about a truce?”

  “A truce?”

  “Yep. I promise not to try to coax you into dating me or having sex with me. I’ll treat you only as a friend, if you promise to stop telling me I need to see a counselor. Deal?”

  Josh stared at him for a moment, in that I’m assessing you sort of way he had. He shrugged. “Okay, deal.”

  “Great.” He scooped up his spoon and dipped it into Josh’s soup. “I always taste my friend’s food, just so you know.”

  Josh smiled, for what seemed like the first time in ages. “It’s pretty good.”

  “Uh-huh. How is Eddie doing these days?”

  * * * *

  A couple of days later, Josh was just pouring a patron a drink behind the bar at a few minutes past eight when Patrick walked in dressed in tight jeans and a pale salmon polo shirt. He was not alone. Accompanying him was a
greasy, dark-haired bearded man a couple of inches taller than Patrick dressed like a slob in ratty jeans and a holey shirt. The man had the palm of his hand on the small of Patrick’s back.

  “Hey, who is that with Patrick?” his brother asked him, coming up next to him to grab a bottle of rum.

  “I don’t know. Never seen him before.” Josh placed the drink on a napkin before the customer and walked around the bar to Patrick’s table. “Hi.”

  Patrick, who had his head tilted way too close to the other man, turned his face to look at Josh. “Oh, hello. Ken, you know what you want to drink?”

  Ken didn’t even glance at Josh, just kept his gaze focused on Patrick. “Hmm, just a beer. Draft. That microbrew mentioned on the sign in the front.”

  “Make that two. Thanks.”

  Josh didn’t move away. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  “Sure. Ken, this is Josh. I knew him in high school.”

  Ken finally glanced at him, but seemed quite unimpressed. “Hey.”

  Josh snorted and left their table. “I knew him in high school.” What kind of bullshit was that? Like they weren’t friends still. Not even a friend from high school, but an acquaintance? He returned to behind the bar and grabbed a couple of beer mugs.

  “You look pissed,” Eddie said.

  “What have I got to be pissed about? I don’t fucking give a shit what douche bag Patrick wants to go out with.”

  Eddie smiled. “You don’t, huh?”

  “No. Not at all.” He shrugged and filled the mugs. “If that guy has bathed in the last decade I’ll eat your hat.” He pointed to the baseball cap Eddie wore backward.

  “Leave my hat alone. That bad, huh?” Eddie glanced at the table. “They look sort of sweet together.”

  Josh followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes when he noticed Ken’s hand rubbing up and down Patrick’s bare arm. He slammed the beers down on a tray.

  “Maybe you’d better let me take those over to them.”

  Josh shot him a look and picked up a couple other drinks to deliver and set them on the tray. He dropped off the other drinks first and then approached Patrick and Ken. He put Patrick’s beer in front of him, and then said, “I’m going to need to see some ID.”

  Ken laughed. “Yeah, right.”